


take me home (forever and ever)

by choncena



Series: the stevetony mixtape [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Avengers, F/M, M/M, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-02 00:36:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20267140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choncena/pseuds/choncena
Summary: Christmas in the Stark-Rogers household is a mess, but Steve loves it.based off the Taylor Swift song, "Lover".





	take me home (forever and ever)

**Author's Note:**

> a "commission" for daniela bc i told her not to tempt me but she went thru w her word and paid me 69 cents so.. here we are..
> 
> this is also unbeta'd bc i wanted to post this like asap to stay within the ~hype~ of the album coming out so all mistakes are mine, but enjoy anyways and please lmk what you think!

Steve didn’t expect to walk back into a house that looked like Santa’s elves personally flew down from the North Pole and decorated it.

“Tony—?” Steve calls out hesitantly as he pulls his coat off and hangs it on the rack, trying not to stumble upon the wayward Christmas decorations lying helplessly on the floor as he tries to get his own boots off.

“SHITFUCK!” 

Steve follows the constant string of swearing and the sound of metal clinking against each other with a raised eyebrow only to find the suspect in question wearing a cutesy apron and looking absolutely flustered surrounded by pans and pots of various desserts and meals with different amounts of readiness. 

Steve leans against the archway with his arms crossed and smirks, Tony’s back facing him. “What the hell are you doing?”

Tony whips around with a fairly guilty grimace but he scuffles over to Steve and goes on his tiptoes to press a quick kiss against his lips anyway. “Hi love, you’re early.”

“Lines weren’t surprisingly too long, even though it’s Christmas Eve, but what are you doing?” Steve steps closer to the counter and catalogues the five pans of cookies, the two tins of brownies, and a large pot of chicken noodle soup simmering over the stove. 

“Um, getting ready for tonight? You haven’t forgotten have you?” Tony raises an eyebrow at him.

Steve shakes his head. “Course not, but this… this looks like a bit much, honey.”

The brunet levels him with a flat look and waves his mitten-covered hands around the kitchen. “This isn’t even all of it! I still have a carbonara and a lasagna to make, I have risotto in the pressure cooker right now, and the turkey still has to go in.”

“Babe, that’s still _ a lot _ of food,” Steve trails off.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me. Steven? You think I’m only makin’ this for _ tonight _ ? This shit’s gonna last us through _ New Year’s _.”

Steve sighs in relief, happy about the fact that their leftovers will have a purpose after all. He walks over to where Tony’s mixing a bowl of pasta sauce and wraps his arms around his waist, the man humming in pleasure as he continues the task leaned against Steve’s front, his head fitting perfectly in the dip of Steve’s neck. 

“Missed ya,” Steve whispers against Tony’s neck. The smaller man lets out a chuckle, body going lax in Steve’s arms.

“Y’just saw me this morning before you left.”

Steve hums, his lips pressing to the crown of Tony’s head. “Still. S’been a long time.”

Tony scoffs affectionately. “Whatever you say, snookums.”

Steve huffs out a small exhale of amusement at the nickname. His hand brushes against Tony’s waist as he moves away, holding his hands to his hips as he looks out at the living room and the dining room from his spot in the archway.

“Anything I can help you with?” Steve asks, but Tony waves him off.

“Not in the kitchen, _ but _ could you hang up the last of the Christmas lights upstairs? The rest of them are in the boxes in the laundry room. Oh! And could you pick Mia up from cheerleading? It ends in a half hour.”

“On Christmas Eve?” Steve asks incredulously.

“I know right? Respect that hussle though,” Tony says, voice muffled as Steve walks further into the living room and places the small decorations lying on the floor back in their respectfully labeled holiday boxes.

“I can get her. Is Jay with her?”

“Yep. Basketball court was open in the gym so he went with.”

“Ollie down for his nap?” 

“Yes, thank _ god _,” Tony says.

Steve snorts. “Was he good today?”

“Oh, very. What’d I tell you, Steve? Our baby’s the next Einstein, but it took him a while to fall asleep and I had to get some last minute things done and then start cookin’ before the rest of the Scooby gang gets here.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he walks back into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. “He takes after you, that’s why he couldn’t sleep.”

“Aca-_ scuse _ me, it wasn’t _ me _ who decided to get up at the ass crack of dawn and disturb the peace,” Tony says, mock offended.

Steve laughs at the brunet. “You need to stop watching Mia’s movies.”

Tony simply sniffs at him. “They’re fun movies, Steven.” He straightens up and steps closer to Steve, pointing the dish rag at him. “And Ollie couldn’t sleep because he missed his daddy.”

Steve huffs, his hand instinctively coming up to rest against Tony’s hips when he steps even closer. “I told you— I had to get some last minute Christmas shopping done.”

Tony hums dismissively before he smirks, looking up to meet Steve’s eyes with his own full of mischief and amusement. “You know who _ else _ missed daddy?”

Steve squeaks and jokingly pushes Tony away, the latter dissolving into a heap of laughter. “For the love of all that is holy, do _ not _ do that.”

“Why not? You used to like it,” Tony says through his wheezing laughter, cheeks flushed with glee.

Steve scrunches his nose. “Yeah, but then we got _ kids _.”

Tony scoffs at him and turns away. “Weak.”

He yelps when Steve whacks his ass with the dish towel playfully in retaliation. With a glare, Tony pivots on his heel and stomps towards Steve to pinch at his side, but Steve simply laughs and dodges the attacks. 

Tony gives up a few moments in anyway. “Go hang the lights up, you jerk,” he calls out to Steve as the blond walks out, but not before taking his revenge and slapping his ass. Steve jumps as response and swivels his head fast enough to feel an ache to glare at his partner, who was too busy cackling to respond. 

Steve shakes his head fondly but he heads upstairs anyway to hunt for the Christmas lights. He finds them in the laundry room as Tony said they would and brings the boxes downstairs to finish hanging them up around the living room. 

He and Tony work in their own little bubble, though Steve can hear and see the other man humming along to the holiday jingles playing on the radio and swaying along as he cooks. 

Steve revels in the calm atmosphere and embraces the domesticity of it. 

This is only the second Christmas they’ve celebrated in this house and Steve admires the way Tony’s decided to go overboard with decking it out outrageously in greens and reds and golds. Before, they’ve always driven down to D.C. to Bucky and Nat’s house because their apartment in Brooklyn was too small to house anybody besides them and their then family of four, but Steve finally got the promotion he wanted and they were able to buy their larger— though still a bit small but it was enough— house in a good neighborhood. 

They have it good now, but it wasn’t always this way.

Steve and Tony met in high school and it was easy maintaining a relationship then when they didn’t have as much responsibilities, but then Tony decided to disown himself from his family so he never saw a single dime of his inheritance. They struggled the first few years after just living on their own, Tony working at an auto shop until he could find an in at a tech firm and Steve working odd jobs freelancing.

They both wanted marriage, knew that they loved each other as much to, but at the time, money was tight.

Steve wanted to give Tony everything, but there was just no time.

Tony eventually got a job in the R&D department at a large tech firm in Manhattan and after a year of working there, they had enough money to support their plans for adoption.

Then life became so busy that it left them barely any time to think about getting married properly.

By the time Steve finishes hanging up the lights, it’s already time to pick the twins up and he thinks of when he and Tony first got them.

It seemed like an odd blessing when they found twin babies— one a girl with brown hair and brown eyes, one a boy with blond hair and blue eyes— at the orphanage, twins solely due to being born on the same day, that looked so similar to Steve and Tony, and they had laughed about it, but it was obvious they were smitten the second they landed their eyes on the little tykes.

So they brought home Jamie Maria and James Joseph, named after both of their best friends, but Steve and Tony thought it hilarious to keep said best friends wondering which twin had either of their namesakes.

The twins were 16 now and moving upstate a year after Steve got his dream job as curator at the MET allowed them to give the twins the upbringing both men were deprived of; they went to high school in a good neighborhood and were signed up in extracurriculars they were interested in, and most importantly, they had two parents that loved and treasured them dearly.

Then they adopted Oliver Nat just eight months ago, filling the missing space they never knew they had.

Now that they had stable jobs and a stable family, Steve wanted to do marriage _ properly _ . It was odd for them to be nearing nearly two decades of having kids, more than that of being in a relationship, and it was about time for them to. They could go the easier route and just sign a couple papers at the courthouse, but Steve wanted to give Tony absolutely _ everything _— wanted to treat his future husband, the man he wants to spend the rest of his life with, the way he deserves to be treated. Steve wanted to show Tony his devotion and wanted to show it off to the world. 

The velvet box was already sitting under the Christmas tree wrapped in gift wrap, after all.

Jaime and James are standing outside the gym talking to Jaime’s other cheerleading friends when he pulls up in front of the gym. 

“Hey, dad,” they say simultaneously as they shuffle into the backseat of the car with their puffy winter jackets, wriggling in their seats as they try to get comfortable.

He smiles at them through the rearview mirror and nearly laughs at how red both their faces are. “You looked like you had fun.”

“Mia and the girls dragged me over to stretch with them,” James says, eyes wide in horror. Steve almost opens his mouth to ask why he looks so scared when Mia throws her head back and lets out a nearly disturbing cackle. 

“We made him do the splits!” she tells Steve excitedly. Steve laughs with her as James groans.

“My _ balls _ hurt! No one, and I mean _ no one _, should be able to bend that way!”

Steve lowers his voice into a chuckle. “Your bones just aren’t as used to it, Jay.”

Steve’s eyes meet his son’s wide ones in the rearview mirror as James says, “Mia threatened to walk into my room at 3 a.m. like the grudge.”

That sends Steve and Jaime into another laughing fit as James pouts and slouches into his puffy jacket, looking so unlike the 16 year old that he is. 

The twins tell Steve all about their time at the gym— Jaime telling him about the stunts she practiced and James, after his rant of being coerced into doing the splits, about his improvement with basketball— on the way home and by the time they’ve pulled into the driveway, the both of them have dissolved into another silly squabble about James joining the cheer team.

“I respect it, but it ain’t me,” is what he says as he gets out of the car first to avoid speaking more about the topic. Steve chuckles at Jaime’s exasperated huff.

They run into the house first with noisy stomps and by the time he’s unloaded everything out of the trunk, Tony’s yelling at them to not touch any of the desserts lying around the kitchen. 

“Devils! The both of you! I’m going to return you!” 

James smirks at Tony from the other side of the counter where he has three chocolate chip cookies in hand, handing one of them to a very smug Jaime. “You can’t ask for a refund without the receipt.”

“Yeah papa, we’ll just tear our birth certificates up,” Jaime says smartly. 

Steve struggles to hide his smile when Tony turns to him for backup. He just holds his hands up in surrender.

“I’m not gonna say anything,” Steve says. 

Tony blubbers at him while the twins giggle, delighted at their stolen goods. Just as Tony’s about to yell at him— probably call him a traitor or something— a loud squeal echoes its way downstairs.

“Ollie’s up,” James says, smiling. 

Tony sighs. “Could you get him, Steve?”

Steve nods, pressing a chaste kiss to Tony’s lips as an agreement before he leaves, resulting in the twins groaning in disgust.

“Ew, guys,” Jaime says.

“Yeah, PDA,” James adds.

Tony narrows his eyes at them. “Like you two don’t know what romance is.”

The twins raise their voices in dissent once again and Steve jogs upstairs to avoid being roped into another argument— albeit a playful one but a bit too often does it spiral into a genuine screaming match about something pointless— with the three of them. 

Steve opens the door to Ollie’s nursery, grinning at the bouncing toddler standing at the edge of his crib. 

“Hi, Ollie!” Steve greets, a large swell of paternal love filling in his chest at the sight of the chubby child with curly brown hair and blue eyes. 

“Da!” Ollie squawks with a gummy grin, patting his hands at Steve’s face when he gets picked up. Steve playfully bites at the baby’s fingers, sending Ollie into gleeful squeals and Steve can’t help but fall in love with his son even more.

It’s honestly surreal how much love he harbors for his children.

Steve talks at Ollie through changing his nappies, Ollie babbling nonsense in response but Steve still “uhuh”s at him. It’s an endless string of gurgling noises and “babababa”s but it encouraged the tot and if Steve and Tony are consistent with their caretaking (which they are seeing as J-squared are showing to have taken after their papa in terms of intelligence, but they definitely adopted Steve’s discipline), then Ollie would grow up similar to both James and Jaime in the way that he would know he was absolutely loved and cared for, even if he was adopted.

Steve and Tony made it a point to tell their kids that they were not at fault for their biological parents surrendering them.

When Steve goes back downstairs with Ollie in his arms, the first few notes of ‘All I Want for Christmas Is You’ are just starting to play over the radio and the twins are holding batter-covered spatulas to their mouths in replace of mics. 

“I don’t want a lot for Christmas—” James starts.

“There is just one thing I need—” Jaime continues.

“I don’t care about the presents—”

“Underneath the Christmas tree—”

“I just want you for my own—”

“More than you could ever know—”

“Make my wish come truuuuueeeeee,” Tony joins in, smiling at Steve and Ollie when they walk into the kitchen.

“All I want for Christmasssssssss—” they all sing along to the radio.

“Iiiiiiiissssssssssssssssssssss—” James riffs dramatically, Jaime bursting into laughter halfway through.

“Youuuuuuuuuuuuu,” they all sing just as the song kicks up, the teenagers mimicking the crescendo of the piano with an enthusiastic “ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum” and a few headbangs.

Ollie squeals and claps along to James and Jaime’s purposefully obnoxious singing as they prance around the kitchen, Tony swaying his hips to the music as he continues cooking.

It’s noisy, and it hurts his ears, but Steve’s heart swells bigger in his chest and it still isn’t enough space to encapsulate how much he holds this little family of his very dear. 

He watches as Tony joins his eldest children in screaming the lyrics to the Christmas songs on the radio, their youngest squealing alongside in his own little mimic, and there’s an ache so deep in his chest at the realization that he has absolutely given all of him to Tony and how Tony has done the same. 

He wants to go wherever Tony goes, wants to be close to him for all his life, and he knows they belong to each other in all the ways that matter, and all the ways that don’t. Tony gave him a purpose, somewhere to belong, and it wasn’t under the roof of a Brooklyn apartment, or the roof standing above their heads now, but it was _ Tony _ and what he gave to Steve— his time, his attention, the chance to become a father to three beautiful children. Steve found a home— _ his _ home— in them.

It’s been 30 or so years incoming, but he can’t wait to finally marry him.

* * *

Their first visitors arrive just a little after seven p.m. and Steve knows this because the twins scream so loud in excitement Ollie startles in his high-chair and starts bawling.

“Oh dear lord,” Tony sighs, rubbing his temples. Steve sighs along with him, picking Ollie up and bouncing lightly to calm him down.

“I’m gonna guess that’s Nat and Buck,” Steve says.

Jaime’s scream of “VICKY!” from outside confirms it. Tony sighs once again and offers his arms up to hold Ollie, Steve transferring the now-whimpering babe easily to him.

“Go help them, I got him.”

Steve nods before walking out into the living room and quickly putting on his winter coat and sliding his boots on. He jogs down the stairs and down the driveway, grinning when he meets his best friend’s gaze.

“Steve-o!” Bucky greets, wrapping Steve in a hug when he gets close enough. Steve lets out an “oof” but he’s laughing when he reciprocates the embrace.

“How was the drive up?” Steve asks.

“Snowy, but Vick slept through the entire ride so it wasn’t bad,” Natasha answers, coming up by Bucky’s flank to hug Steve.

They catch up on the driveway while Steve helps get their bags out of their car, the twins and Bucky and Nat’s daughter, Victoria, head inside.

Tony is grinning down at Vicky with Ollie still held on one hip when Steve, Bucky, and Natasha make their way inside. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Miss Victoria Odette…”

The five year old giggles at him and rushes in for a hug, her arms wrapping around his thighs. 

The other adults coo over the scene and Natasha makes her way over to the brunet to kiss his cheek in greeting and steal a squalling Ollie from him.

Bucky, in all his casualness, also leaves a rather loud smack on the cheek on Tony before digging his head into their fridge and grabbing two beers, handing one of them to Steve. Steve shakes his head and laughs when his to-be-fiance and best friend start to banter pointlessly. 

Time passes by in the noisy household as more of their guests start arriving.

Pepper, and Happy arrive with their own unbelievable amount of gifts that they can’t even fit them under the tree.

Rhodey, Carol, Sam, and Sharon follow shortly after, bringing in their own tupperwares of deserts.

Then there’s Bruce and Thor and Clint, walking into their house with excited fratboy-like screams (mostly from Thor and Clint) and light up Christmas sweaters.

Last to arrive is Peter and Harley, whose families won’t be able to join the Christmas Eve celebrations but will join them the next day. 

The two teenagers make a beeline for the twins and Tony shakes his head with his eyes wide in fear as they scramble up the stairs towards the game room with playful taunts.

“They’re gonna break something; I can feel it,” Rhodey says, shaking his head as he sips on a beer. 

“As long as it’s not the TV, I think we’ll be fine,” Steve chuckles.

Dinner is another boisterous affair.

Everyone is crowded around the ten-person dining table, squeezed in together until their shoulders are all touching, but the atmosphere is comfortable and casual and everyone praises Tony’s cooking as they double down on the copious amounts of food until there’s just enough leftovers to tide them over until New Year’s.

The kiddos eventually break off after their plates are cleaned to go back up to the game room, their own screams and laughter echoing downstairs as the adults slowly get tipsy over wine and nibbles of sweets.

They sit at the dining table until late in the night, simply catching up and letting the tensions of their day to day life leave their bodies.

Tony stays wrapped under Steve’s arm, his temple pressed against Steve’s collarbone. His body is loose and pliant under Steve’s warmth and Steve feels the electricity of his own excitement thrum through his body as Tony snuggles closer. 

Steve presses his lips against the crown of Tony’s head, laying a soft kiss to the soft hair. “Should we start with the one-gift opening now? It’s nearing midnight.”

Tony hums, wrapping his arm around Steve’s midsection. “Sure, go call the kids down.”

Ever the troublemaker, Harley leads the others down the stairs by using a thin mattress pad as a sled. 

Tony would’ve yelled at him had a giggling Ollie not been held tight by Jaime.

It’s another mess to find everybody’s gifts in the big pile under and surrounding the tree. 

Gift-wrap flies around the room as everyone tears at their presents, grinning widely in gratitude. There’s sweaters and gift cards and weird thrifted trinkets that are just funny enough to be kept on display. 

Tony gets a mug that says “#1 Dad” from Peter and he laughs when it shows it to Steve, who laughs along with him under his new heated blanket, a courtesy from Sharon.

“Actually, Tony has one more,” Steve says when everyone’s opened their one gift.

“Heyyyy,” Sam whines, “That’s cheating.”

Tony stands up from his criss-crossed position and sticks his tongue out at the other man on the way back to the tree to dig for the little box.

“Steve, honey, where the hell is it?”

Steve laughs. “It’s the little shiny blue box near the stump.”

Tony digs for a few more moments before emerging with an ‘aha!’, but he stays standing facing the others in their little makeshift circle as he unwraps, giving Steve the perfect vantage point.

“What the hell did you get me, Steve? What could possibly fit in this little—”

The others gasp as Steve smiles, his eyes meeting Tony’s shocked ones.

“What—”

“I’ve known you nearly thirty years now, had a family with you for almost twenty, and I don’t think I’m going anywhere without you for the rest of my life,” Steve says, his hands wrapped around Tony’s free one, “We don’t need a wedding, but I want to give that to you. I want to show you off and I want everyone to watch as I tell you, and _ only _ you, that my heart is yours, forever and ever. I want to go wherever you go, want to be wherever you are, I just want to be this close to you for as long as I live.”

“You’re my lover, my soulmate, the father of my children, and I will always want you to be, so Anthony Edward Stark, will you do the honors of formally marrying me?”

Tony opens and closes his mouth as he struggles for a moment, the others waiting with bated breath, until apparently words get too much for Tony, who nods profusely and just throws himself into Steve’s arms.

The rest of their family cheer and yell in happiness— Steve’s pretty sure Pepper’s crying, actually— with their own mumbles of ‘fucking finally’, but right now, Steve can’t pay attention to anything but _ TonyTonyTony _.

James, Jaime, and Ollie join their embrace, talking animatedly as the twins throw questions about decorations and dates and flowers at Steve and Tony’s face.

“Dad, I wanna be a flower girl,” Jaime says.

“Can I be DJ?” James asks.

Steve laughs at them and agrees before his gaze meets the devotion in his _ fiance’s _ tender eyes, the sight of him and their children surrounding them leaving Steve with a full-body warmth that he never wants to replace.

Later, when the lights and the excitement has gone down and the kids are sleeping in their own little nest of sleeping bags and pillows and fluffy blankets in the game room upstairs while the adults are in a similar situation in the living room in front of the fireplace, Steve will turn to his husband in anything but the legal sense of the word and kiss him softly as the back of his best friend is pressed up against his own.

“Are you excited for tomorrow?” Steve will ask to the pair of brown eyes that have kept him afloat since their days of scraped fists and tattered knees.

Tony will reply back with a playful grin, “Depends. What world will I be waking up to tomorrow?”

And Steve will kiss him softly in promise and say, "Ours, my love. Always ours."


End file.
